Jarka Ruus - Терри Брукс

As the pilot continued to maneuver toward the slot, the Elves scattered back into the trees, pointing and shouting. Khyber stood her ground, not wanting to miss the details of the landing. She had flown on airships, but never seen one landed in a space so small. She wanted to see how it was done. She wanted to see if the pilot could do it.

She got more than she bargained for. It appeared the craft would touch down before it reached her, but at the last minute it lurched drunkenly, skipped across the forest floor, and came right at her. If Ahren hadn't yanked her out of the way and thrown her down, she might have been struck by the pieces of metal that broke loose and flew wildly in all directions. The little skiff slammed into the ground, tore open huge ruts with its pontoons, and came to a halt not twenty feet from where she crouched.

Ahren released his grip on her arm and stood her back up. «You need to pay better attention, Khyber," he said quietly.

She rubbed her arm and shrugged carelessly. «Sorry, Uncle Ahren. I just wanted to watch.»

The Elves began to filter out of the trees for a look at the airship and its occupants, one of whom had appeared from the pilot box. A boy who was younger than she was stood on the skiff's deck, surveying the damage and shaking his head. She stared. Was he the one who had been flying the skiff? This boy? Then a second head popped up from one of the storage holds in the starboard pontoon, a Dwarf who looked as if he didn't know whether to strangle the boy or embrace him.

«Is that Tagwen?» Ahren whispered in disbelief. «Shades, I think it is. What is he doing here?»

With Khyber right beside him, he hurried forward to find out.

THIRTEEN

Penderrin Ohmsford hauled himself out of the pilot box, brushed off his rumpled clothes, and surveyed the little skiff with no small sense of satisfaction. Another vessel would have broken apart on impact, coming in as fast and as hard as she had. That they were down safely at all was a miracle, but he had survived tougher landings and had never really been in doubt about the outcome.

Tagwen did not share that reaction. The Dwarf was incensed as he climbed out of the storage bin into which he had fallen, and pointed a shaking finger at the boy.

«What's the matter with you? Are you trying to kill us? I thought you said you could fly this thing! Didn't you tell me you could? Why your aunt thinks you are so good at flying escapes me! I could have done a better job myself!»

His beard was matted with leaves and twigs and dirt clots, and a rather large leaf stuck out of his hair like a feather, but he failed to notice, the full weight of his attention given over to Pen.

Pen shrugged. «We're down and we're safe, and we're walking away," he pointed out. «I think that ought to be good enough.»

«Well, it isn't good enough!» Tagwen snapped.

«Well, why not?»

«Because we should be dead! This time we were lucky! What about next time? What about the time after that? I'm supposed to be able to depend on you! I said I would come with you in search of the Ard Rhys, but I didn't say I would commit suicide!»

«I don't see why you're so angry!» Pen snapped, made angry himself by the other's irascible behavior.

«Tagwen, is that you? As I live and breathe, it is! Well met!»

The shout came from one side, drawing their attention and putting an end to their arguing. The speaker was an Elf about the same age as Pen's father, but with a face that was more careworn and with an even slighter build. A girl walked beside him, darker complected and more intense. Her eyes were riveted on Pen, and he had the feeling that she was making up her mind about him before she even knew who he was. Then she smiled when she saw him looking back at her, a disarming, warm grin that made him regret his hasty conclusion.

«Tagwen!» the speaker exclaimed again, reaching up to take the Dwarf's hand. «What are you doing out here? And on an airship?»

«Desperate times require desperate acts," Tagwen advised philosophically. He extended his own hand, and they shook. «I must say, flying with this boy is as desperate as I care to get.» He paused, glancing over at Pen ruefully. «Although I will admit, in all fairness, that he has saved my life several times on our journey.»

He reached out a hand and guided Pen to the forefront. «Penderrin Ohmsford, this is Ahren Elessedil. You might have heard your father speak of him.»

«Ah, young Pen!» the Elf greeted enthusiastically, shaking his hand, as well. «I haven't seen you since you were too tiny to walk. You probably don't remember me.»

«My father does indeed speak of you all the time," Pen agreed. «My mother, as well.»

«They were good friends to me on our voyage west, Pen. If not for your father's help, I would not have returned.» He gestured toward the girl. «This is my niece, Khyber, my brother's daughter. She visits from Arborlon.»

«Hello again, Khyber.» Tagwen nodded to her. «You have grown up.»

«Not all that far," she replied, her eyes staying on Pen. «That was a spectacular landing," she said. «I didn't think you were going to make it down.»

Tagwen went crimson again, the disapproving frown returning to his bluff features, so Pen jumped down from the decking with a mumbled thanks and quickly added, «Tagwen's right. I was lucky.»

«I think it was more than that," she said. «How long have you been flying airships?»

«Enough about airships!» the Dwarf huffed, noticing for the first time the debris in his beard and brushing it clean with furious strokes. «We have other things to talk about.» He lowered his voice. «Prince Ahren, can we go somewhere more private?»

Elves were gathered all around by then, come out of the trees to take a closer look at the airship and its occupants. Children were already scurrying around the pontoons and under the decking, making small excited noises amid squeals of delight. A few of the braver ones were even trying to climb aboard while their parents pulled them back.

«My cottage is just up the road, Tagwen," Ahren Elessedil said. «We can clean you up and give you something to eat and drink. Khyber makes the best mango black tea in the Westland, a secret she won't share even with me.» He gave the girl a wink. «Leave the skiff. She'll be all right where she is. She's an object of curiosity, but the villagers won't harm her.»

«I don't care whether they harm her or not!» Tagwen groused. «I've had more than enough of her for one day, thanks very much!»

They walked back through the village, Ahren Elessedil leading with Tagwen at his side, Pen following with Khyber. No one said very much, respecting the Dwarf's wishes that they wait until they were in private to talk. Pen was thinking that even though Tagwen had insisted the Elven Prince–turned–Druid could help them in their search for the Ard Rhys, Ahren didn't look up to it. If anything, he looked too soft and frail for the physical demands of such an endeavor. A strong wind might blow him away, the boy thought. But looks were misleading. Ahren Elessedil had survived the voyage of the Jerk Shannara when more than twenty others had not, and he wasn't a Druid then. Tagwen had warned Pen not to judge Ahren too quickly, that what was visible on the surface was not necessarily representative of the man inside. Pen hoped he was right.

«Your father is Bek Ohmsford?» Khyber Elessedil asked him.

He nodded. «Do you know the story from your uncle?»

«All of it. It is the most famous story of this generation. My family doesn't much care for it because they hold your aunt responsible for my grandfather's assassination and Uncle Ahren responsible for helping her escape them and found the new Druid order at Paranor. My brother is the worst. I don't agree with any of them. That's why I'm here. I am training with my uncle to be a Druid. In secret.»

«Your family doesn't know?»

She shook her head. «They think I come here only to visit, so they leave me alone. They don't know the truth.»

He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. «My parents don't know where I am. They think I am still back in Patch Run.» «What will they do when they find out you're not?» He smiled. «Track me down. They can do it, too. But they won't find out for a while. They're off in the Anar on an expedition, guiding customers hunting and fishing. They won't get back for weeks. So they won't know.»

She smiled back. «Looks like we have something in common.» They reached Ahren's cottage, where the Druid provided Pen and Tagwen with fresh clothes, a bucket of water, and cloths with which to wash up. The pair did so, and returned to find that Khyber had prepared the promised black tea and set out some cheese and bread, as well. Since neither had eaten since early morning, when they had set out from somewhere below the Mermidon, they devoured the food hungrily and drank down the entire pot of tea.

When they were finished, Tagwen rocked back in his seat, glanced across the table at Ahren to be certain he was listening, and said, «I'll tell you why we've come now, but it might not be something you want to share with Khyber.» He gave her a pointed look. «No offense is meant, young lady, but the truth is you might be better off not knowing what we have to say. There is some danger involved.»

The girl looked at her uncle, who shrugged. «I am not much good at keeping secrets from Khyber," he said, smiling. «In any case, she would have it out of me before the sun was down. If you don't mind, I'll let her stay to hear your story.»

Tagwen nodded. «She can quit listening when she decides she doesn't want to hear any more. I'll leave it at that.»

Leaning forward, arms resting on the tabletop, bearded face scrunched up so that he looked as if he was about to undertake the most difficult task of his life, he began his story. He related the events surrounding the disappearance of the Ard Rhys, the dismissal of Kermadec and his Rock Trolls, his own decision to seek help from Grianne's brother, his arrival at Patch Run and meeting with Pen, and their subsequent flight from Terek Molt and the crew of the Druid airship Galaphile. He ended with the unexpected appearance of the King of the Silver River, come out of nowhere to save them from Terek Molt and to tell them of what they must do.

The longer Tagwen's story went on, the more ridiculous it sounded to Pen and the more foolish he felt for coming even that far. What the King of the Silver River expected him to do—even if you accepted that it really was the King of the Silver River and not some malevolent shade—was patently impossible. For a boy with no practical magic to go alone into the Forbidding was so arrogant and pigheaded that no right–thinking person would even consider it. Pen didn't have to know the particulars of what lay behind the Faerie magic that closed away the creatures of the Forbidding to know that he had virtually no chance of surviving a journey inside. He might be able to find and secure the darkwand from the tanequil—though that was debatable, as well—but he saw no way he could reasonably expect to rescue the Ard Rhys once he had done so.

By the time Tagwen had concluded, Pen could not bring himself to look at Ahren Elessedil. He imagined himself in the other's shoes, thinking that he would dismiss this whole business in a heartbeat. The Dwarf had been so certain Ahren would help them, but looking at it now, Pen couldn't see any reason why.

He glanced over at the Druid in spite of himself and found the other staring back.